


Sit, Stay, Heal

by daughterofalderaan



Category: Broadchurch
Genre: F/M, Mitchell the Dog (OC), Post-Season/Series 03
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-08-27
Updated: 2020-12-22
Packaged: 2021-03-07 01:01:33
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 6,214
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26148361
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/daughterofalderaan/pseuds/daughterofalderaan
Summary: The Hardys consider accepting a furry friend into their lives.
Relationships: Alec Hardy & Daisy Hardy, Alec Hardy/Ellie Miller
Comments: 9
Kudos: 53





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Someone on the tumblr chat recently brought up the concept of Hardy+Dogs and I was like mamma-mia-let's-a-go

Daisy asked if they could get a dog and Hardy said yes.

More accurately: Hardy finally relented after months of Daisy peppering the request into everyday conversation.

It was inevitable; Daisy could convince him of anything. Well, anything except her moving back to Sandbrook without reason. True, she no longer had the desire to flee, but he wouldn’t want her to leave him alone in a house on a cliff by the sea like in a bloody gothic novel. 

The nagging began after an encounter they had with the furry resident of a nearby town. Daisy found out via Instagram about a new food joint in Beanminster called Cheezd. There hadn’t even been a measly McDonald’s within a 30-mile radius of Broadchurch. Back in Sandbrook, she’d get Five Guys or Mackie D’s about once a week after school. After moving to the coast, greasy burgers became a rarity due to lack of access and her dad’s personal rigidity surrounding food. She realized how much she’d been craving proper fast food.

Hardy drove to this new place on a Saturday. Daisy went into the crowded establishment and ordered enough to last for both lunch and dinner (and then some). Hardy didn’t care for the menu’s offerings, and so he waited on a bench outside.

From where he was seated, he got a good whiff of a meaty sort of smell. Other people obviously found this enticing, but he found it nauseating. They were almost certainly pumping out an artificial scent into the street as a marketing tactic. He was contemplating getting up and standing against the brick wall of the adjacent store when something caught his eye. 

A large terrier was trotting up the road. It was wearing a collar, yet no human accompanied it. The dog got fairly close to him but then, in one swift movement, jumped up onto the bench. He was on alert at first but soon regarded the dog curiously. It laid on the bench in a rather content manner. 

After a few minutes, he said out loud, “Where’s your owner?” 

It gave no answer, as it was a dog. Hardy reached out and gave it a scratch behind the ear. 

This was when Daisy emerged outside again, holding a brown paper bag containing her food. She looked surprised when she spotted her dad’s companion. 

As she approached, she asked, “Were you just talking to this dog?”

“Nope,” he said.

“I didn’t know you liked dogs?”

“It’s mostly the barking I’m not fond of…” 

She looked around and said, “Whose is it?”

He shrugged, saying, “I’m not sure where who it belongs to, it sauntered right up here.”

“That’s Marshmallow,” said a lady who was smoking nearby (and eavesdropping too, clearly). “She’s quite popular. Roams about on ‘er own whilst ‘er family’s out.” She pointed to Cheezd. “Used to be a butcher’s here. The owners would give Marshmallows scraps of meat every day. That place don’t exist no more but she still seems to like it ‘round ‘ere.”

“She’s lovely,” said Daisy.

“Quite a character, she is,” said the woman.

Hardy nodded to acknowledge the lady and then turned back to Daisy. “Ready to head back, Dais?”

Daisy held up the takeaway bag towards him. On it, her name was miswritten in black permanent marker. “Looks like my name is Maisy now.”

***

Daisy felt the warm food in her lap and struggled to abide by the No-Eating-In-The-Car family rule. To keep her mind off the amount of saliva her glands were producing, she actively thought about that sweet dog, Marshmallow, and how her dad had said that he _didn’t_ hate dogs. 

Well, he didn’t say that, but he didn’t say that he _hated_ them. In his language, _not hating_ could be akin to _liking_. 

A lightbulb switched on in her brain.

“Dad, can we get a dog?”

He thought for a moment before saying, “No.”

“You liked the one back there. I saw you pet it. Willingly.”

“That doesn’t mean I’m about to let a living creature reside in our house.”

“I’d be the one to primarily take care of it!”

“I don’t think so.”

Hardy made a quick stop at the bank before going home. When he got back in the car, Daisy said, “I’ll try to get at least all B’s on my A-Levels if we get a dog.”

He frowned. “I don’t see what a pet has to do with you with you bein’ serious about your future.”

She quieted at his tone and didn’t press the matter any further that day. However, she brought it up again at regular intervals. He kept telling her no, but with decreasing resolve.

A few months later, when she asked for the fifty millionth time perhaps, he responded with a simple “Okay.”

She almost didn’t catch the response because she wasn’t expecting it. 

“What?!”

“If this is what you really want, we’ll get a dog.”

“Really?”

“Yeah.”

Daisy then changed her tune. “Are you sure? You’ll have to live with it as well.”

“I’m aware.”

“And we’d have to pay for its food and all that. And even though I’d be the one mainly taking care of it, it’s still another responsibility added onto you whenever you’re working on really involved cases. Like, what if I was staying over at Chloe’s and didn’t get to walk it that day or something.”

He was amused at their role reversal. “I said it’s alright, Dais.”

She couldn’t hug him since he was driving, but she grinned and said, “Thanks, Dad.”

***

Never having had a pet before, Daisy did her due diligence. She poured over virtual dog profiles on local shelter websites and researched which pups would be a good match for them. 

A couple weeks after having given the go-ahead, Hardy drove them to the pet supply shop to pick up the basics. He called squeaky toys “nuisance devices” and talked her out of purchasing a chew toy in the shape of a dog because “that's just cannibalistic.” 

The weekend after that, they visited the nearest pound. It was located in a very old building, and there was nothing but grazing sheep in the surrounding area. Daisy was finally acclimated to the culture shock that was life in Broadchurch, but she always forgot how things got even sparser when leaving the town. 

Once inside, a volunteer informed Daisy that her main pick had been adopted a few days prior. Daisy declared that there were no upset feelings over missing a particular pup, since all dogs are perfect. The volunteer agreed profusely. 

She peered into the cages, learning more about the dogs, and recognizing them from the pictures on the website. However, one of them had been brought in relatively recently and didn’t have a profile set up yet.

He was a black and white collie. He was perfect.

Extremely cute? Check.

Didn’t require grooming every single day and sat somewhere in the middle in terms of physical activity needed? Check, check.

Was friendly but didn’t bark all that much? Check, check, check, check, check.

They adopted him. 

Daisy was practically levitating in her seat during the drive back to Broadchurch. 

They managed to snag a parking space in the town centre right outside the vet’s office. Hardy got out of the car, shut the driver door, and opened up the back door to retrieve the carrier bag. The dog let out a tiny whine at the noise.

“Don’t worry, Mitchell, you’ll be out of there soon enough,” she said to the dog enclosed in the bag. 

“Mitchell?! Why’re you callin’ it Mitchell?”

“He just looks like a Mitchell. It suits him.”

Hardy carefully extracted the bag from the back seat. “No name _suits_ anyone. We’re just predisposed associating a particular name with characteristics of people we know of who have that name.”

Daisy got out of the car and let out a Dad-You’re-Being-A-Buzzkill sigh, but she thought up a retort that would rile him up. “Is that why you call Ellie ‘Miller?”

“What?” he said, confused. 

She continued, saying, “Did you formerly know somebody that was called ‘Ellie’ but that person sucked—”

He caught on and quickly said, “No.”

“—and that’s why you only use her surname? Because you already associate her name with someone unpleasant and don’t want _Nice_ Ellie to remind you of _Shitty_ Ellie.”

“I’ve never known anyone else called that.” He pointedly didn’t call out her swearing.

“But she’s your bestie, right.” He winced at the terminology. “It’s so weird to call your friend by their surname.’

“Plenty of people do.”

“Nobody that I know.”

Before Hardy could respond, a familiar voice called out a “hello” from behind them. 

Both of them turned. It was Ellie, on the opposite side of the road, with Fred holding her hand.

She said, “Look, it’s ‘Nice’ Ellie,” as Ellie and Fred crossed the street. He shushed her. 

“Alright there, Daisy?” said Ellie.

“Hi, Ellie,” said Daisy.

Ellie then noticed what Hardy was holding, and she crouched a little and tilted her head to get a better look.

“Who’s this, then?” Ellie asked.

“Mitchell,” said Daisy. “We just got him!”

“Ooh, you’ve adopted a dog, then!”

Daisy bounced her head up and down.

Ellie then looked at Hardy. He also confirmed with a nod.

“Lovely!” Ellie jovially smacked him on the arm with the back of her hand. “Good one, Hardy!”

“Oi!” he exclaimed. 

“Your dad’s been telling me that you’ve been desperate for a dog, but I really didn’t think he’d go for it!”

“Anything for her,” said Hardy.

Daisy shifted uncomfortably under the weight of the sudden sentimentality. 

“It’s really good of your dad to agree to this,” Ellie said to her. “I don't think he’s ever been within ten foot of an animal before.”

“I have,” he countered.

“When we were doing an interview with that bloke who lives on Chessington Lane, you wouldn’t even go in the same room as the cat!”

“I’m allergic!”

“I think he’s just scared of cats,” Ellie conspired.

“Yeah, probably,” said Daisy.

Hardy tried to defend himself, but Fred started tapping on Ellie’s leg and whining that he was hungry. 

Ellie quickly acknowledged him but then leaned in and whispered to them: “Fred’s been asking incessantly for a tortoise. Me and Tom are not keen, we’re desperate for him to move on. 

Fred interrupted, yelling, “Mum, my stomach is yelling!” He grabbed her hand and tried to drag her away. 

“Okay, okay, we’re going! Bye, Daisy. See you Monday, Hardy.”

Hardy lifted up his hand in a mediocre wave, and she walked off with Fred skipping ahead of her.

When Daisy finally opened the outer door to the vet’s office, Hardy said, “Don’t ask me for a turtle next.”

“Ew, no way!” she laughed. 

The checkup went by quickly, and soon enough, they had a new addition to the family, wagging his tail in their lounge.

Daisy loved Mitchell already. She was absolutely positive that her dad was going to love him too.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ok well now im thinkin about moving forward in the Dog!Verse and makin it an eventual alec/ellie thing are we down for this lads are we vibing with this, homeskillets


	2. Search Party

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Some days, everything ends up a bit off-kilter.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> daisy n ellie POVS this chap

Daisy wanted the day to be over as soon as it began.

She'd stayed up too late, doing god-knows-what on the internet. Still half asleep, it was too cumbersome to walk _without_ dragging her feet on the floor. It was all the more annoying to know that she was the cause of her own early morning demise. 

Daisy spread some jam on toast (accidentally launching some across the room from her absent-mindedness), dumped Mitchell's food into his bowl, and slipped her rucksack over her shoulder as she left for school. 

When she pushed open the front outer door, she was jolted right out of her sluggishness. A hostile gust of wind swept past, causing the door to fly out of her grip. It smashed the deck railing with such a force that she was surprised the glass didn't shatter. She shook her head in annoyance before locking the inner door and getting herself to school. 

If sitting outside her first class of the day and working furiously on maths problems was a sport, then she was an athlete. As per usual, she had a maths assignment to complete that she hadn't even started. She blocked out the noise of students in the hallway and got to work. 

Daisy checked the time on her phone. The first bell was about to ring, but there were still a couple questions she couldn't answer at all. She wasn't even sure the ones she _did_ answer were correct. In her defense, antilogarithms made no sense. It didn't really matter, though; she wasn't planning on becoming a professional mathematician. 

As she packed her stuff back into her bag in defeat, her kind-of friend, Gerri, walked by. She knew Gerri through Chloe, but then again, anyone she knew in Broadchurch, she knew via Chloe. 

Gerri noticed her and came up to her, saying, "Hi, you alright?" 

"Fine, thank you," Daisy replied. She mentally smashed her own head open with a mallet for coming across so formal. 

Daisy was still sitting on the floor, legs crisscrossed, so Gerri crouched down to chat. She complained about an exam she had later that day, but her face lit up when mentioning that there were badminton try-outs that afternoon.

"Oh, great!" replied Daisy.

"You like badminton?" Gerri asked. "Are you trying out?"

If Daisy were a coherent human being, she would have said: "No, I'm not really into sport, but good luck making the team!" What she ended up replying was: "Yep!"

The bell rang.

"Cool, I'll see you there later, then!" Gerri stood back up and headed to class. 

Daisy had the duration of a boring history lecture to ponder what she'd set herself up for. Hiding her phone inside her textbook, she alternated between yawning and looking at the school newsletter to find details on the try-outs. At lunch, she asked around and got a classmate she barely knew to lend her suitable activewear for the afternoon.

After class finished, she changed and walked over to the field a couple minutes' walk from the school. Apparently, the gymnasium was already occupied by another try-out, and so badminton was banished outside for the day. Nets were set up, and students stood around chatting. 

Daisy didn't recognize anybody. She dropped her belongings in a forming pile of stuff and stood there alone for ten minutes. A steady cold breeze whooshed past, and she rubbed her arms to try to keep herself warm.

It was a major relief when Gerri showed up. She arrived with a few friends but gave her a wave and gestured her over. After Gerri introduced her to everyone, the coach blew a whistle to get everyone's attention.

They were instructed to pair up and hit the birdie back and forth over the net. The sensation that went through Daisy's body was like the grass-laden version of stage fright. She was pretty sure she'd never even held a racket before in her life, and now she was expected to be coordinated enough to hit a small object flying through the air at her.

Gerri's friend, Marta, was her first opponent. Marta didn't seem very practiced, but she still put Daisy to shame. Even when it seemed like it'd be a really easy hit, she still messed up. It didn't help that the field was uneven. 

Her next opponent was a tall girl whose hair was in a slick bun. It was instantly apparent that she had no hope of scoring against her. The girl was light on her feet and hit the birdie with immense force. It was a major win when Daisy even managed to touch the birdie with her racket. Her lack of coordination was so loud.

She should've resigned herself to her terribleness and not even have tried putting in any effort. However, the humiliation of her incompetence was overwhelming her.

Her opponent hit the birdie towards the complete opposite side of the net, but it was in a high arch. Daisy figured if she sprinted for it, she could manage to get it back over the net. As she ran, her foot hit a hard dirt mound. It wasn't just a mere trip; she fully lost any ounce of control over her motor abilities as she flew through the air and crashed into the net's pole. There was a notable _thump_ as she landed on her right leg.

The searing pain forced her eyes shut. 

She was aware in a not-fully-lucid way that people were starting to crowd around her. When she opened her eyes, Gerri was standing over her asking if she was okay. All she could do was continue to clutch her leg as she tried not to let the water in her eyes spill out. 

The students surrounding her parted to let the coach through. She assessed Daisy's leg before telling her they'd call her emergency contact and get her help.

Daisy's first fully-formed thought was that she hadn't told her dad she would be doing anything out of the ordinary after school.

He was aware that she generally didn't like sport. She was fine going for a walk or throwing the frisbee for Mitchell to catch, but she just wasn't compatible with anything involved coordination and agility. Just last week, she'd been complaining when a football game pushed back the start time of her favorite program. What would she say when he inevitably asked how on earth she ended up at an athletic try-out? The truth? That she couldn't back out of trying to impress a girl she fancied? He did _not_ need to know that. Daisy told the coach she'd contact her family herself. 

"I'll grab your stuff for you. Yours is the light blue bag, right?" asked Gerri. 

Daisy nodded. Gerri ran over to extract her bag from underneath the pile and brought it back over to her. Daisy muttered her thanks, took out her mobile, and pretended she was telling family about what had happened.

As medical assistance arrived, she was already deep into stewing in the new lows she'd reached. It was like she was cursed into experiencing one adverse event every term. Her reputation would now be solidified as the school klutz.

She reasoned that it was best to wait a bit to inform her dad that she was hurt. After all, he was at work. He would be high-key worried if she called him saying she had a medical emergency. True, she was in a lot of pain, but she was pretty sure it was just a bad sprain or something. 

At A&E, she'd text him _after_ being assessed. That way, she could make something up like that she accidentally stepped in a pothole, but she was fine. It'd all be okay. There was no reason to vex him. 

It was not all fine.

The doctor in the Emergency Department took one glance at her X-ray and informed her that she had a broken bone.

In a panic, she mentally scrolled through the possible iterations of what she'd tell her dad. She'd ring him and tell him that it was alright, everything was fine, she just took a bit of a fall and broke her foot, she was at the local hospital, but all she needed was to be picked up.

Daisy shifted herself in a way she shouldn't have and tried not to scream from the fresh jolt it gave her leg. It was at this most _opportune_ moment that her dad showed up on the ward.

He made it to her bed in seconds.

She tried to keep her face from being screwed up in pain as she said, "Hi, Dad."

"What's going on?" He was breathless, clearly having rushed to the hospital.

So, the whole Keep-Dad-Calm plan failed.

All she could manage was an: "I—foot's broken."

She could count the lines that appeared on his forehead. 

"How'd this happen?" he asked. 

"I fell."

"Fell? Where'd you fall?"

She hesitated. "Near school."

"Anything else injured?"

"Just my foot."

"Okay." He slowly exhaled before saying, "Is your mobile working?"

"Yeah, I guess so…" She pulled her device out of her jacket pocket, pressed the button, and saw missed calls and texts from him littering the lock screen. "Oh."

"Oh?" he parroted. "So your mobile's working, and you're of sound mind? Yet I got not a word from you? Why did some school administrator have to be the one to tell me that you'd been banged up and shipped off to hospital?"

She realized that it was probably school protocol that a contact be informed, seeing as she wasn't yet of age.

"I was about to text you! I wanted to wait for a diagnosis so I could tell you everything all together so you wouldn't get all worried _like this_."

He let out a pained sigh. "Daisy, you've got to tell me things. Not just when it's convenient. Not only when you've told someone first, and they've convinced you to speak to me too, or I have to hear about things from third parties, or anybody else. Yeah?"

Her voice came out weak. "Yeah."

His face let go of his frustrations for the moment, and said, "It's hurting a lot, your leg?"

"Kind of, but I'm alright," she said. 

It was evening by the time she was given her cast, crutches, and discharge papers. Her dad tried helping her to the car, but she shrugged off his assistance. She needed to get used to being down a leg. 

Once in the car, she was out like a light. Opening her eyes and seeing that they were already home was like a jump scare. When she successfully ascended the steps and reached the porch, she was greeted by the economics assignment she'd spent a whole week procrastinating on. 

*****

Ellie was giving Fred his bath when her mobile rang. She glanced at the caller ID and quickly answered with a "Speaker's on, I'm with Fred." Upon hearing his name, Fred let out a dinosaur roar.

Hardy's voice reverberated through the room, which caused Fred to jump. "The dog's up and offed after my daughter snapped her bloody leg in two!"

Ellie snatched up her mobile and set it against her ear instead. "Excuse me?!" 

He hastily explained how Daisy had hurt her leg earlier, and their dog was now missing.

"I can be there in ten; help you look for him."

Her father had already expressed his intention of turning in early, so she banged on Tom's door. "Hardy's had an emergency," she shouted. "Finish giving Fred his bath, please! And don't flood the house this time!"

There was no response. She banged on the door again. "Tom, are—"

"I heard you, Mum!" he called.

"How'm I to know you heard if you don't respond!"

"How could I _not_ hear you screaming outside my door!"

"Don't use that tone!" she warned. "Anyway, I'm leaving now, don't know when I'll be back!"

Ellie drove over to Hardy's neck of the woods. En route, he let her know that Daisy posted a message on facebook, estimated the max amount of time the Mitchell could've been outside for, and told her he was out searching in the direction of the "ugly orange house." Somehow, she knew off the top of her head which one he was referring to. At red lights, she texted people she knew to live in the realm of Hardy's residence, asking for them to keep an eye out.

She pulled up to his house and grabbed what Hardy left for her: a chewed up sock. She stuffed it into her bag. If they didn't find him tonight, they'd have to leave out scented objects with the hope that Mitchell would come back to them.

“Think like a dog," she muttered to herself, setting off in the opposite direction she knew Hardy to have gone, to cover more ground.

She passed by a young couple and inquired as to if they'd seen Mitchell. They hadn't, but they promised to keep an eye out.

A minute later, she spotted a woman with a cane inching along the side of the road and asked the same of her.

"I very nearly had the life taken out of me by a dog just ten minutes ago!" said the woman.

"It attacked you?" asked Ellie.

"It ran past me."

"And…Did it come into contact with you?"

"No, but it was moving quite fast."

"Okay." Ellie artificially kept her face looking pleasant. "Could you describe how the dog looked?"

"No."

"No, you can't remember, or…?"

"I was set on not getting mauled, not trying to identify the model and mold."

Ellie bit her lip for a moment to hamper down any retaliatory snark she might've let out. "Could you please tell me what direction it went?"

The woman pointed. "As I said before, it headed down the road that way." 

The woman had _not _'said before.' Ellie thanked her but rolled her eyes as soon as she turned away. She kept her eyes peeled as she descended the hill and called out for Mitchell at regular intervals.__

Then, after one of her calls, Ellie heard a noise that sounded distinctly like a dog. She stilled. "Mitchell," she called again, scanning the surroundings.

She heard rustles in the brush to the side of the road and approached slowly, but not too slow that she would come across like a predator. She repeated his name, and Mitchell jumped out and onto the street.

"Oh, okay, agile," she said, impressed. "Hello, remember me?" 

Ellie then noticed he was holding a knife in his mouth.

"Let's put that down," she said, voice steady. She didn’t want to get him excited and accidentally…stab her.

He took a few steps towards her and she took a few steps back.

She scrambled to unzip and feel around her satchel without taking her eyes off of Mitchell. "Look, get that out of your mouth; I've got real food," she said, pulling out an energy bar. She unwrapped it quickly, dropped it on the ground, and prayed that it didn’t have any ingredients that would end up being poisonous to him. The knife clanged as it fell from his mouth. As he nipped at the bar, she grabbed the knife and chucked it off the side of the hill.

Finally gathering her bearings, she texted Hardy that she found his dog.

"Okay, let's get you home. Come on," she told Mitchell.

She tried to walk with him, but Mitchell wouldn't follow, so she rang Hardy.

"Have you got a leash on you?" she asked. "The dog won't budge."

He told her that he was coming. 

While on the phone, she'd watched as Mitchell laid himself down on the pavement. She sat down on the curb next to him. After a minute, he got up, and she feared she was going to have to start chasing after him and removing more weapons from his mouth, but he circled her a couple times and settled onto her lap.

"Oof, heavy." Even though he was just a tiny thing a few weeks ago, he now weighed as much as multiple Freds. 

"You've caused a lot of trouble, you know," she scolded.

Mitchell seemed to understand that he was being told off. He looked up at her with wide, adorable eyes. She couldn't help but be entranced.

"No wonder they call it 'sad puppy eyes," she muttered.

A few minutes later, both she and Mitchell looked up when they heard Hardy's approaching footsteps. 

"Dad's here," she said.

Mitchel hopped off of her, bounded over, and collided with him.

"Sit!" he said. Mitchell sat, tail wagging furiously. Hardy took the lead out of his trouser pocket and clicked it onto the collar.

"Oh god, my legs have both died from his sitting on them," Ellie said as she tried to get up off the ground.

"Need a hand?"

"M'alright," she said, heaving herself up and wobbling over.

"How'd you find him?" he asked.

"I asked around. There was this woman—miserable cow, but she had seen him and ended up pointing me in the right direction.

"Did she by any chance have a purple cane?"

"Yes. Who is she?"

"Mrs. Friedman. She lives—"he did a mental calculation "—five houses down. She's terrible."

"I'm going to have to thank her."

"Really?"

"I'll just leave a note," Ellie said. She then looked down at Mitchell, who was walking between them. "You gonna ground him, then?" she joked.

"I'm taking away his mobile," he deadpanned.

"What happened anyway? How'd he get out?"

"Well, my daughter _apparently_ was trying out for team sports—"

"Weren't you just telling me she doesn't like that sort of thing?"

"So I thought! She was there, unbeknownst to me, trying out for tennis or what have you. Ended up breaking her leg and going to the hospital."

"Oh, god."

"I found out from the school that she was hurt; she didn't even tell me."

" _Teenagers_."

"When we got back, she wanted to do everything herself—crutches—no help. In all that effort, when we got back, she _forgot to close the front door behind her_."

"Sounds like something Tom would do."

They made it back to his house safe and sound. "Shall I say hello to Daisy?" she asked.

"If you'd like," he said.

"You can also give me that book you were telling me about that you've yet to lend me."

Mitchell raced up the steps quick as can be and stood on the porch, waiting for them to make the ascent.

Daisy was sitting on the couch in the living room; a pair of crutches was propped against the sofa arm. "He's back!" Daisy exclaimed when she saw Mitchell walk in. She held out her arms, indicating for him to come over to her.

"It was Miller who found him," said Hardy. 

"Thank you!" said Daisy. 

Ellie grinned at her.

"We were lucky," said Hardy. "This is why it’s imperative to make sure _the doors are closed and locked_."

"Alright, Dad, I know," said Daisy, voice on edge.

He swallowed. "I'll go get the novel," he said to Ellie. 

As Hardy left the room, Ellie gestured at the crutches. "How're you managing with those?"

"Alright," said Daisy. "It's the stairs that are the most difficult."

Ellie nodded. Mitchell left his position adjacent to Daisy's legs to go gnaw on a toy on the other side of the room. 

"He's gotten really enormous since I last saw him," Ellie noted.

"Right!" said Daisy. "I have this whole album of photos on my phone of him. Going through them all chronologically, it's crazy seeing how many times bigger he's gotten." 

"Ooh, can I see?" Ellie sat down next to her on the couch.

Daisy handed over her mobile. Ellie flipped through, cooing at the photos. "Ohh, look at that face!" she said at a photo of him with a beanie on his head. However, when she swiped to the next image, her eyebrows shot up.

She'd landed on an illustration of a red cartoon frog with a monocle, saying, "I have died every day waiting for you." 

"Don't know how that got in there," Daisy said, cheeks reddening, as she grabbed her mobile back.

Hardy stepped back into the living room and handed her the book. He then grunted as he sank down into a chair.

"You alright there?" Ellie asked.

"Long day," he said.

"I'll do tea," said Ellie.

As Ellie stood up, Daisy announced, "I'm going to go to sleep." She pushed herself off the couch, grabbed her crutches, and made her way to the hallway. 

"You haven't had dinner, though?" Hardy asked. 

"I had a snack whilst you were outside; I'm fine." 

Ellie did think it would be best for the girl to eat something of sustenance, but it didn't seem the time to butt in. Plus, she looked exhausted. She said, "Good seeing you, Daisy."

Daisy smiled at her, and then disappeared into the hallway, crutches clacking on the wood floor.

Ellie sat down, immediately remembered she had gotten up for a reason, said "Tea," and hopped back up to go to the kitchen. 

She re-entered the room, creeping in slowly from holding two full mugs. There wasn't a coaster at the ready, so she asked, "Is this junk mail?" before setting it down on some scammy-looking envelopes and letters on the coffee table. She then settled back on the couch. "Well, today's been a hassle," she said before blowing on her tea. 

There wasn't a coaster at the ready, so she asked, "Is this junk mail?" before setting it down on some scammy-looking envelopes and letters on the coffee table. She then settled back on the couch. "Well, today's been a hassle," she said before blowing on her tea.

He responded by closing his eyes and giving a slow nod. 

"Here's to tomorrow having no broken bones or missing pets or leaking office pipes."

He lifted his mug in a mock cheers before taking a sip. When he put the cup back down, he slouched lower in his chair before saying, "She's so reluctant to tell me things. I can't believe she ended up all the way at A&E and didn't tell me, never mind that she was doing anything noteworthy after school. She needs to...communicate more."

"Hm, bit pot to the kettle."

"Wha—I'm—If I were that bad, we'd never crack a case."

She gave him a look and opened her mouth, but then he understood where she was going. "Oh, don't bring that up for once—"

"I'll bring it up 'til the end of days if I do please, thank you very much. Oh, I do _wonder_ what it'd be like to have someone not tell you that they were heading to the hospital until well into the ordeal."

He groaned.

"It seems your daughter inherited a very specific gene."

"Next time I'm shipped off to the hospital, I'll give you a ring right away. If someone impales me with a shiv, I'll have them livestream the procedure directly to your device. Happy?"

"Delighted." 

He pressed his index finger to his temple and his thumb to his jaw. "Daisy didn't want me to be worried about her. She shouldn't be feeling the need to protect me; it's me, her father, who should be doing the protecting."

"Mmm. At her age, all I was _protecting_ my parents from was learning about the girl in upper sixth I gave a black eye to in the middle of the school day," said Ellie. 

"What?!"

"Never mind that. With Daisy, it sounds as if her heart's in the right place?" 

"Yeah," he agreed.

Both were silent for a moment. Mitchell noisily chewed on his toy.

"You know," said Ellie, "I don't think I'd ever seen her as excited as when I bumped into you two when you'd just adopted him."

"Nor I, most of the time."

Mitchell opted for a slight change of scenery and walked across the room to settle by the front door. 

"Working out for you both, then, having a dog?" asked Ellie. "Aside from today's shenanigans?"

"Aside from today," he agreed. "It's been good. Having him around."

Ellie suddenly remembered the item she had yet to return. "Here," said Ellie, unzipping her bag. She procured the sock and flung it over the table at him. 

"Hey!" he said.

"Had this been washed before it got all chewed up?"

"Can't remember."

"I've got to fumigate my bag now."

As they continued chatting, his eyelids started drooping. She was going on about her latest car servicing, but stopped speaking mid-story, for she realized he was asleep.

They'd both been through their due share of Starting-To-Drift-Off head jerks, but she realized she hadn't seen him full-on asleep in years. Not since the life she had where she ran on fury as fuel. 

She thought of him looking like death itself in the hospital. Passed out in his bed in that little chalet while she tried exchanging pleasantries with Tess. 

Back in those days, the survival days, she couldn't have cared less about minutiae such as what state of awake he was in.

It'd been a long day, but there wasn't anything pressing on her aside from the daily vexings of life. Sure, life got difficult, but there wasn't anything suffocating her. She could breathe.

There was time to watch as his chest rose as he inhaled and fell as he exhaled. To feel warmth and affection fill her senses. Logically, was no reason for her to stay any longer, but she found she couldn't tear her eyes away from his sleeping form.

Ellie's mobile buzzed. She blinked a few times and checked the lock screen.

Tom: bath done house didnt flood

Then another message popped up.

Tom: freds barfing tho

Of course.

Ellie got up and hurried towards the entranceway. Mitchell was lying on her trainers. "Hello," she whispered, crouching down and giving him a rub. "I'll be needing these." She managed to gently pull them out from underneath him as he shifted his position.

She looked back at him, slumped on the chair, perchance-dirty sock still in his lap, and smiled before quietly pulling the door shut behind her.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i for the life of me couldn’t figure this chapter out out & nonstop was adding removing and switching things around like some kind of gridlock board game. but I’ve done it! ive emerged out of the sewers alive! cheers m8s


End file.
